Krawlen weather be it

serpent mind
ribs like knives
flexible as a cat o nines
the insect song
the heated weather
make meals of
the resting
the spice breath
the livid thud of
hot blood
in a constricted vein

the grasses are
weaving
ever so slow
in a slew of diamonds
tragic

stirring this way
the night comes
tongue tasting
with its darkness
lashing

tiger dreams
and a hush grip
unblinking moon
staring

....